September Day
by DevlinV1
Summary: [FIN:2004] Inspired by Jeff Hardy's song by the same name. My take on what might've gone on in the lives of Matt and Jeff, the day of the WTC attack.


**September Day**

**By Archangel**

_Dedicated to Jeff Hardy and all who lost their lives on September 11th._

"Jeff."

"Grrmmph…"

"Jeff, wake up."

"Mmm…"

"Wake up, Jeff. Now!"

He opened one lazy eye to look up at his brother with blurred vision. The expression on Matt's face made him lean up from where he laid on his stomach, letting the covers fall back off his head. Matt's skin was pale, his eyes holding a dreadful worry deeper than any Jeff had seen.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's your TV remote?"

Jeff blinked and turned around, sitting up correctly and looking around himself. Then his brain seemed to function at least a little bit for he turned around and grabbed the remote from the headboard. He turned it on, flipping over to the news channel at Matt's request. The first words he heard were, "smoke billowing out of the windows from the fire the plane has started. No word on how fire crews intend to put out the flames just yet because they're currently more concerned with evacuating both buildings."

"What's going on?" Jeff mumbled in confusion.

"Terrorists flew a plane into the World Trade Center."

Jeff's eyes widened, but he didn't look away from the television. Matt sat down next to him, putting an arm around his bare shoulders, noticing how icy he was even after getting out of a warm bed. The two of them watched in complete silence. It wasn't until Matt's cell phone rang that either of them moved. He looked at the caller ID.

"It's Daddy."

"He's going to be ranting like no tomorrow," Jeff muttered.

"I didn't eat all my pancakes if you're hungry," he said before answering the phone. "Hi Daddy. Yes, we're watching."

Jeff got up, hesitantly pulling away from the television. As he walked through the house, though, he discovered Matt had turned on the TVs in the kitchen and living room all to the same channel. Jeff listened and half watched as he made himself something to eat. He couldn't believe that this was really happening. A terrorist attack on America. It's not that he didn't think it would ever happen, but he had never really expected it to. If that made sense. He doubted it would to anyone aside himself. He looked sadly at the fiery picture of horror in front of him, thinking about the people inside the building. They must be terrified. Of course, some of them were already dead. He wondered who was the first person to notice the plane coming for them. What did they think before they died? Jeff had a feeling he would've done the stereotypical 'oh shit' and pissed himself if he saw a plane heading straight for him. Most people did that when they died in such a shocking manner.

As he continued to think about it, his mind started envisioning the utter terror of what must've happened when the plane hit. It would've taken out multiple floors, causing all sorts of gruesome possibilities for death. His mind wandered over various scenes that probably took place. He didn't notice Matt until he touched his shoulder, causing him to jump and gasp in shock.

"Whoa! Jeffro, didn't you hear me?" Jeff mutely shook his head, staring at him with wide eyes. "You're shaking from head to toe. I didn't scare you that badly."

"No… No, it's all of this." He sighed and looked back at the TV, seeing a particularly sick scene of someone falling from one of the windows to meet their death below in his head. He shuddered. "My mind is seeing how they died."

"Oh God, Jeffro, don't think about that."

"How can I not? That's why this happened. They want to kill us." He shook his head slowly. "How could they do this? It's just horrible. Don't they realize how many people are in there? Innocent people with families and lives. Someone's mother may be working there right now. And she would be someone's daughter, sister, wife, possibly even a grandmother herself. And if she's in there she's dead now. A whole family ripped apart. And she's just one of thousands."

"Jeff, stop. You're gonna make yourself—" he was cut off as Jeff ran away, heading straight for the bathroom, "sick."

A little while later Jeff came back out into the living room, not finding Matt there or in the kitchen. He flopped down onto the couch weakly. He got updated on the fact that a plane had just crashed into the Pentagon. All over the country airports were shutting down. All the biggest businesses in the world were doing the same in case they were the next targets.

"Jeff! You alive?" Matt called from the kitchen as he headed through the house.

"I'm in the living room."

"Oh, so you are alive." He sat down next to him. "I've gotten phone calls from a lot of the other guys. Shannon wants you to call him back so he can cry on your shoulder over the phone."

"Can't he cry on Crystal's? I'm bad enough on my own."

"Call him later—"

Matt halted in mid-sentence again. This time not because Jeff was sick. Another plane had just hit the second building. They had witnessed it themselves even if it was through television. Even Matt felt a shiver go through him at the sight and the thought of more agony being put into the lives of innocent people.

"The people on the planes…" Jeff whispered.

Matt reached over and took his brother's hand tightly. "Stop it. Don't think so hard about it."

"But Matty…"

"Stop it. Mourn for them, but don't picture it."

Jeff sniffled and covered his mouth with his other hand, squeezing Matt's again. Matt looked at him then and quickly pulled him into his arms. The two fell back into the couch together and continued to watch the history unfolding before them.

"The building is leaning…" Matt mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Look. The one that was hit first is leaning to the side." He squinted. "Fuck that. It's swaying back and forth."

"Oh no… Ohhh nooo," Jeff groaned and covered his eyes.

He must've seen what was coming because the building started to come down just as he spoke, crumbling underneath the weight of the plane inside of it, unsteady from the shock wave of the second crash so near to it. Matt gasped as he watched the cloud of debris and dust flow out and cover the entire city. Jeff was sobbing against his shoulder, shaking with each breath he tried to draw, obviously thinking still about the people inside.

"Dear God, have mercy on these people," Matt said solemnly, sincerely meaning it as a plea to the leader of his faith.

"He's not listening. Not today He's not," Jeff whispered and looked at the screen. "He's overloaded now. So many people praying for others to be okay, others praying for their lives to be spared, others praying for their evil plans to go through."

"And as if the death toll wasn't enough, this is going to ruin the stock market. The price of life is going to skyrocket. Businesses are going to go under from loss of money. Airports are never going to be trusted again."

"You're not ever flying to any city ever again," Jeff snapped.

"Hell no I'm not."

"I can't take anymore."

Jeff got up and quickly left the room, turning off the kitchen television and then the one in his bedroom. He crawled back into his bed and brought the covers up over his head. Of course, he couldn't go back to sleep. He laid there, staring out the window at the bright beautiful sky, wondering how it could possibly be so clear and blue and sunny when thousands of people were dying for no good reason. Tears rolled slowly down his face, but he tried his hardest not to start crying again since his throat and chest were hurting. He was beyond miserable. As soon as he thought it, though, his mind responded with, 'Not as miserable as they are in that building.'

"Jeffro?" Matt asked from the doorway.

"What?"

"The second building came down."

Jeff felt his body jerk as if he'd been kicked. He laid still for a second or so then nodded against his pillow.

"Okay."

He heard Matt pull the door to the room closed as he left again. As soon as he was gone Jeff leaned over the edge of the bed in search of writing materials. He found a scrap of paper and a dull pencil and started writing, scribbling furiously as his mind flew faster than his hand could move. He managed to get it all down, though. Every thought, every feeling, that he wanted to express. He could almost hear the tune in his head. It was quiet, soft, mournful. Different from what he usually did. This was a special song, though.

It was hours later, when the news reports started to repeat the same thing over and over, that Matt came back into Jeff's room. Jeff was asleep. The tiger striped pillowcase had a patch that was a darker color, wet from where Jeff had buried his face to cry. Next to him was a piece of paper and pencil. Matt took both away before Jeff rolled over onto them. He read what he had written and felt his throat constrict. So vaguely morose. The words had been chosen so carefully so to describe exactly what was needed to be said and what he had yearned to portray. Matt looked down at his brother sleeping peacefully in the middle of the day. It seemed so bizarre to think that just north of them, not even a full day's worth of driving away from them, thousands of people were dead or dying, hundreds more fighting to save them, fighting in vain. And somewhere else in the world people were celebrating the successful slaughter.

Yet right here in the quiet room of the Imagi-Nation, Jeff slept silently, looking young and vibrant and beautiful. _And alive_, he thought. It was oddly peaceful in the bedroom. Matt laid the paper and pencil in a safe place for Jeff to find later, stripped out of his jeans, and crawled into the bed next to Jeff in his shorts and shirt. Jeff stirred slightly and opened his eyes for a small second. It was just enough to recognize Matt and acknowledge his presence. He was asleep again in an instant. Matt was thankful for that as he curled up close to Jeff's chest, hiding in the zebra print blankets and leopard spotted sheets to weep as quietly as possible until he too fell asleep.

_A thought of who did this_

_A thought of how could they_

_Fly away and steer astray_

_An act of ignorance_

_Unthinkable thought since_

_They flew away_

_Steering astray_

_Straight into America_

_America's financial heartbeat_

_Still beats_

_Innocent lives that died_

_Your souls are so alive_

_All the life that's in this world_

_All that dies within this world_

_Is a part of God_

_And His creation_

_All the terror you've poured_

_Represents your holy war_

_Holy shit! I scream visioning_

_How you died_

_A city of many_

_A nation of more_

_Building away_

_Rebuilding today_

_A piece of history_

_An act of ignorance_

_More spiritual since_

_They flew away_

_Steering astray_

_You won't kill America_

_America's overall heartbeat_

_Still beats_

_Innocent lives that died_

_Your souls are so alive_

_A thought of who did this_

_A thought of how could they_

_Flown away..._

_September Day..._

**The End**

_A/N: After hearing Jeff's beautiful song honoring that day, I thought about how he must've felt the day it all happened. I doubt this is even close to the reality of his life, but this is what I thought of. I imagine Jeff cried. But then again, who didn't?_

_Legalities: "September Day" is performed by Peroxwhy?gen, written by Jeff Hardy, and is property of him and whatever legal label he uses for his music._

_Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, and any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story._


End file.
